4x19 Jump the Shark, missing scene
by Johanna8D
Summary: Sam appeared to heal incredibly quick from very severe wounds in this episode... I decided to write how I think the scene with the ghouls should've ended. Multichapter. hurt!Sam and nurse!Dean for your entertainment! Warning for a little bit of swearing
1. Chapter 1

"Dean, they're ghouls!" Sam shouted.

Dean hesitated for a moment, looking down at his brother, before firing at the female ghoul's head.

"Which means headshot", Dean concluded as the ghoul's now headless body slumped to the ground.

Dean started heading toward Sam to free him when the Adam-shaped ghoul grabbed him from behind and threw them both through the glass door.

Sam moaned, wanting to help his brother but struggling against the restrains holding him down. He heard thumps and smashes from the other room as the fight between Dean and ghoul-Adam went down.

The blood was leaving Sam's body fast and his arms felt weird, numb and stinging at the same time. He fought the dizziness that the blood-loss brought on as he watched blood stream from the open gashes in his arms.

Looking over to his brother, he saw Dean smashing ghoul-Adam's skull in repeatedly. Sam didn't exactly want to interrupt, but another wave of dizziness hit him and the corner of his vision suddenly went black. It took the last of his energy to call out, "Dean!"

His brother instantly looked up and rushed over to the table, grabbing a couple of towels before quickly cutting off the tape that held Sam down. Dean swallowed hard as he saw the deep cuts in Sam's arms. Another minute and he would've been dead.

"Come on, come on, come on", Dean mumbled as he helped his brother sit up. Sam groaned as he struggled upright, fighting the nausea and dizziness.

"Hang on, hang on. Alright, here we go." Sam barely noticed the familiar rambling that Dean always did when he was nervous. "Here we go, here you go, buddy."

Dean wrapped the towels around Sam's bleeding arms, mumbling, "alright, alright."

Sam moaned against the pain as the fabric touched his wounds.

"Thank you", he breathed.

"That's what family's for, right?" Dean joked, sounding a little breathless. "Keep pressure on that."

He tried to follow his brother's orders, but it proved difficult, especially as the room spun with every movement. He panted heavily as he felt himself grow weaker by the second. Suddenly Dean's arms were wrapped around his back, and he realized that he his body had given up and started to fall back against the table.

"Got ya', Sammy," Dean said. "I got ya'."

"'M d'zzy", Sam mumbled, trying to explain himself.

"I know Sam, I know." Dean looked around for a second, before wrapping one of Sam's arms over his shoulder. "Think you can make it to the couch?"

Sam gave a weak nod, which wasn't very convincing, especially as he was clearly struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Alright, no falling asleep, Sammy", Dean ordered before carefully swinging Sam's legs off the table. "Ready? One, two… three."

Sam pushed himself of the table, leaning heavily against Dean as his legs folded beneath him. Pain cut through the arm that was wrapped around Dean and Sam grimaced.

"Crap", Dean said as they started to stumble toward the couch. "Not far now…"

Sam felt as though every piece of furniture and every wall in the room were doing a ring dance around him, and he had to close his eyes again to prevent himself from passing out.

Dean gently lay Sam down on the couch and took another look at his arms. The towel-bandages were now completely drenched in blood. Sam looked down at his arms, then up at his brother again

"Gonna' have to stitch your arms up, Sam", Dean said and swore quietly.

"'S 'kay", replied Sam, but his head rolled back against the armrest and his eyes fluttered closed.

"No, hey," Dean protested, patting his brother's cheek. "No falling asleep, ya' hear me?"  
No response. Dean's eyes flickered over Sam's pale face, searching for a sign of life.

"C'mon, c'mon", Dean mumbled as his fingers took Sam's vitals. His pulse was weak, very weak. He had lost a lot of blood.

"Sam? Sammy!" Dean shook Sam's shoulders, gently at first, but then harsher as panic rose inside him. "Wake up, Sam, damn it!"

Sam suddenly inhaled deeply as his eyes opened again, his breathing raspy and harsh. At least he was awake.

"Hey, hey, hey, Sam", Dean said, holding his brothers head in his hands, brows furrowed in concern.

"Dean?" Sam mumbled.  
"Mornin', Sleeping Beauty." Dean let out a sigh of relief. "No passing out on me again, alright?"

"I did?"  
Dean nodded. "Yeah, I couldn't wake you up."  
"'ess 'm n'ada's g'd 's I 'thod", Sam tried to say.

"Huh? Sammy?" Dean said. "You okay?"

"'m f'n."

"Yeah, right", Dean snorted. "Forget I asked. I'm gonna have to run out to the car for the first aid kit. You stay awake, okay?"

Sam nodded once, opening his eyes just a tiny bit.

"Good." With that, Dean disappeared out the door.

Keeping his eyes open for just a few minutes proved difficult. The only thing Sam heard now was the wind blowing through the old house, a sound that proved very soothing. All that he wanted to do was fall asleep. His mouth felt dry, his body felt numb and dark spots were still dancing in front of his eyes. He had to close them, but forced himself to stay awake. _For Dean_ , he convinced himself. _I can do it for Dean._

He hadn't even heard his brother come back when something cold was pressed against his lips.

"Drink", Dean's voice said. There wasn't enough energy in Sam to protest, so he just did what he was told.

The cold water felt wonderful in his throat and he breathed out heavily.

"Okay, time to stitch ya' up", Dean said, glancing anxiously at his brother as he prepared a needle and thread.

Sam swallowed hard, blinking sluggishly. "Jus' do it", he said quietly.

Dean removed the bloody towels from his arms, causing more blood to well out of Sam's arms. Sam groaned at the uncomfortable sensation. Then Dean was there, pushing the needle through the sides of the first gash. The stitches stinged horribly and Sam clenched his teeth together to keep from moaning in pain. At least it made him feel more awake again, and he stared up at the ceiling as Dean fixed up his arms.

"There," Dean finally said. "All done."

Sam hadn't realized he had held his breath until he finally exhaled. He was tired, oh, so tired. But he knew he wasn't supposed to sleep. He shifted on the couch, trying to acquire a more comfortable position, but pain prickled through his left side. His stomach rolled with nausea, his body's way of protesting against all the pain it had to go through in one day.

"No", Sam said with a grimace. "Not all done."

Dean frowned. "What'd'ya mean?"

"Hurt m'side."

"Was it Adam?" Dean asked as he pulled Sam's shirt up to reveal another wound, though not as deep as the gashes in Sam's arms had been.

"Ghoul-Adam, yeah."

"Crap. Alright, I'll bandage this for ya'." He rummaged through the first-aid-kit until he found a bandage roll. "God, I'd make a great nurse. I should get payed for this."

Sam let out a weak laugh, then his breath caught as pain spread from his side, accompanied by another wave of dizziness.

"Easy there, cowboy. You're not gonna hurl, are you?" Dean asked while bandaging the wound.

Sam just shook his head slightly, pressing his lips together as the bandage pressed against his wound.

"So, seriously, tell me. How you doin'?" Dean asked him while bandaging the wound. "Room still spinnin'?"

"A little", Sam admitted. "I think 'm okay. Well, except for the pins 'n' needles in my arms."  
"Yeah, that'll pass. It's just the blood loss", Dean reassured him. "Damn it, Sam, why can't you just give normal blood donations like everybody else?"

Sam snorted, fighting to keep his eyes open but his eyelids were just so damn heavy. "'ll try to… rem'mber tha'…"

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean said, and his voice appeared to be drifting further and further away. "You can sleep now."

A/N: Alright, so that was my first Supernatural fanfic! I'm kind of a new fan, but I wanted to try writing this alternate ending to the ghoul scene in 4x19. I just felt like Sam healed way to fast from that, especially since cutting your wrists like that can kill you in a couple of minutes. Now please leave a review telling me what you thought, did you like it? Do you want more? 'Cause I have something in mind for the next chapter if you do… Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

"Sam?" The sound of Dean's voice woke Sam from a heavy sleep. "Sammy?"

Sam squinted against the bright sunlight pouring into the room as he opened his eyes.

"Dean? Wha…" his voice came out groggy and unclear, and he tried to clear his throat. "Wha' is it?"

"I think you've slept long enough there, Sleeping Beauty", Dean said. "We better get the hell outta' this creepy-ass house."

Sam nodded. "How long was I out?" he asked as Dean helped him sit up in the couch, ever so slowly.

He couldn't help but grimace against the nausea as the room spun violently. Is if reading his mind, Dean shoved a bucket in his face right before he started throwing up.

"There ya' go, big guy", Dean said while sympathetically patting his brother on the back. He felt bad for his brother; recovering from severe blood loss was not fun.

After pretty much emptying all of the content in his stomach, Sam leaned back against the couch, sweat prickling his forehead.

"You were asleep for about eight hours", Dean said, studying his brother's pale face. While Sam had been asleep, Dean had kept an eye on his pulse, which had not gotten much stronger. This was going to take time.

"We gotta get you some supplies", Dean continued. "Think you're strong enough to make it to the Impala?"

Sam nodded, of course, and Dean mentally shook his head at himself for expecting anything else but denial from his brother.

"We gonna leave the house like this?" Sam asked, glancing pointedly at the broken glass and blood on the floor.

"Yeah, I got rid of the ghouls while you were asleep. We'll leave the rest for the cops to figure out, don't ya' think?" Dean smiled mockingly before grapping his brother around the back. "Alright then, ready to go?"

"Yup", Sam mumbled. He relied on his brother to push him out of the couch and focused on trying to keep his balance as the dizziness hit. He squeezed his eyes shut until the worst if it passed.

"Just take it slow, okay", Dean instructed as they started moving.

Sam's legs felt incredibly weak as they made their way toward the door. "That won't be too hard", he muttered sarcastically, seeing as if he tried to speed up any more his legs would probably give up under his weight.  
Dean snorted in return, but didn't shoot back with another sarcastic remark as Sam had expected.

 _Must be worse than I thought,_ Sam thought to himself.

Slowly but surely, they finally made it to the car. Sam let himself fall into the passenger seat, just barely avoiding hitting his head against the roof. By now he was breathing pretty heavily and felt _so damn exhausted._

Dean slid into the driver's seat a couple of seconds later, shooting his brother a worried glance.

"How you doing?" he asked.

Sam swallowed hard, closing his eyes to not be sick again. "Good", he replied weakly. "I'm good."

"Hey, none o' that", Dean scolded. "Tell me honestly how you feelin', or I can't help you."

Sam glared at his brother for a second, but gave up with a sigh. "I'm weak, constantly dizzy and I feel like i'm about to be sick again. Happy?"

Dean shot him an annoyed glance, but otherways ignored the sass. "Well, luckily for you I know just what you need."  
Then he turned the motor on and drove away.

ooOOOoo

When Sam woke up the next time his body was aching from the uncomfortable sleeping position in the Impala. The car was parked outside of a grocery store, Sam realized as he looked around. Through the glass doors in the middle came Dean, two grocery bags in his hands.

"Mornin'", he said as he hopped in the car, dumping the bags in Sam's lap.

"What's this?" Sam asked, opening one of the bags.  
"Supplies. To help you with the blood-loss-hangover", Dean explained.

Sam frowned as he pulled out a box of pie.

"Really, Dean?" he said, pressing the box into his brother's hands. "I think that's for you."

"Hell yeah." A big smile crept over Dean's face as he looked down at the pie. Then he reached over into one of the bags and pulled out a bottle of juice.

"Drink this", he said, handing it to his brother. "They always go on about drinking a lot of juice after giving blood donations, so I figured, why not."

Sam shrugged, opened the bottle and started drinking. It tasted wonderful, washing away some of the fuzz in his brain. He finished the whole bottle in a matter of seconds.

"Wow", Dean said with a laugh as he started the car again. "You should probably eat something too."

Now that didn't sound as good as the juice, considering his stomach was still a bit upset. He managed to eat about half a sandwich before the nausea took over and he had to throw the sandwich out the window to get rid of the smell.

ooOOOoo

About two hours later, they arrived at a remote motel in the woods that was not too shabby-looking. Dean opened the door for Sam, helping his brother out of the car.

"Alright, you wait here while I try to get us a room that's not three floors above the ground", Dean said.

Sam nodded, leaning against the Impala as he watched Dean disappear through the main doors. The sky was clear today and the sun felt warm against his skin, although he found the strong light a little painful to his still sensitive head, so he closed his eyes as he waited.

"Sam", a voice from above suddenly hissed. "Sam!"  
Sam's eyes sprung open, looking around to see who had called his name. He found Dean gesturing at him from a balcony on the second floor, eyes wide.

"Demons!" he explained to his brother, trying to be as quiet as possible while he kept glancing back toward the building. "We gotta- watch out!"

 _Click-click._

Sam heard the sound before he felt the cold barrel of the gun pressed against the back of his head and froze. He swore silently for letting himself get snuck up on.

"Don't move", a man's voice growled at him as his hands were restrained behind his back.

Sam looked up at his brother again, who looked freaked as hell, hands wrapped around the railing so hard his knuckles whitened. They needed a plan, fast.

Sam tried to assess the situation the best he could, what with his brain still being a slow, tangled mess from the blood loss. There were at least two demons behind him, one holding the gun and another using both his hands to keep Sam's arms in a steady grip behind his back. Dean was maybe three meter above him, but not too far away. They'd left all their guns in the trunk of the car, but Dean, he had the demon knife.

Something shifted in Dean's features, so vaguely that only Sam would've been able to notice the difference. He'd caught onto the same plan that Sam had.

In the blink of an eye, Dean had reached down his side, pulled the demon knife out and threw it straight into the chest of the Demon standing next to Sam, the one with a gun. The demon sank to his knees, dead in seconds. Sam reacted fast, catching the demon holding him by surprise. He managed to pull himself free, grab the knife out of the dead demon's chest and thrust it into the stomach of the second demon, who was possessing a female vessel.

That's when he heard Dean give a surprised yelp. Turning to look up at him, he saw a demon grabbing his brother by the throat, another two closing in on him. That's when he heard footsteps on the ground behind him, but before he could react, intense pain spread through his head and he blacked out.

A/N: Hey, another chapter! I got a few reviews saying they wouldn't mind more, so I thought I'd continue this story. So what did you think? Want the rest after this cliffhanger? Please leave a review telling me what you thought; it really motivates me to keep writing!


	3. Chapter 3

When he regained consciousness, he heard fighting sounds from the balcony above him, but from his position on the ground he couldn't see what was happening. What he did notice, though, was the demon knife being pressed against his throat by a young girl- no, a _demon_ possessing a young girl.

His head was throbbing horribly and he felt nauseous again. Some delirious part of his battered mind wondered what'd happen if he threw up on the demon behind him.

He suddenly heard three thumps above him from what he assumed was body's slumping to the floor of the balcony. Fear rushed through him as he wondered if one of those bodies belonged to dean.

 _No. He's okay; he's a good hunter._ _The best. He can handle himself._

And in that he was correct. Suddenly, he watched his brother throw himself off the railing, pulling the young-female-demon down with him as he landed. The demon yelled and dropped the knife which landed right in front of Sam's face. Sam realized that he needed to move, now. He clenched his teeth together as his body screamed in pain when he moved, but he forced himself to reach out and grab the knife. Then he scrambled to all fours, moving toward his brother who was wrestling with the demon. He almost fell over several times on the way as the world swayed around him.

Dean saw him coming from the corner of his eye, kneed the demon (who was on top of Dean with a choke-hold around his neck) in the stomach and as the air rushed out of the demon-girl, Sam used the handle of the knife to knock her out. He couldn't bring himself to use the blade and kill another vessel- especially not one who looked to be a fourteen-year-old girl.

With the demon knocked out, all the adrenaline drained from Sam's body and he slumped to the ground on his back, breathing heavily. Black spots danced around his eyes, and he turned to the side and threw up. Not much came out though, since he hadn't eaten a lot.

Sam groaned as he turned his head. It felt heavy, like it weighed a thousand tons, and it was throbbing like it'd been hit with a hammer. Dean was suddenly on the ground beside him, his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Sammy? You okay?" he asked, voice raspy.

"Yeah, I think so", Sam said, pressing a palm to his forehead with a grimace, is if that'd lessen the pain. "What about you?"

"Ah, I think my ankle's broken", came Dean's muttered response. "Otherways, I'm fine. More worried 'bout you. Probably got yourself a concussion on top of everything else."

Sam mumbled a "crap" before trying to sit up. Bad move. The world tilted over and suddenly he was staring up at the sky again. He suddenly felt so sick again that he was afraid of throwing up again.

"Woah, Sam", Dean said. "Take it easy. You're pretty messed up."

Sam snorted. "Ya, thanks for noticin'. How… the hell… we gonna' get outta' here?"

He had to pause in between words, struggling for air as the lightheadedness took over.

But Dean was already reaching into his pockets and pulling out his phone. "Sorry Sammy, but I think we're gonna need the nurses for this one."

Sam barely heard Dean call for the ambulance, feeling himself slip in and out of consciousness.

"… on their way… ten minutes… Sammy…"

Sam tried to look at his brother but his eyes wouldn't focus, everything was just a blurry mess. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake.

"Hang in there, you hear me?" said Dean's voice.

After what felt like ages of lying in the grass, focusing on trying to keep his breathing steady, Sam heard the sound of sirens in the distance.

"Finally", his brother muttered from somewhere beside him.

And then there were several hands on him, lifting him up and away and the next thing he knew, when his vision had finally cleared as the dizziness decreased, he was in the ambulance, on the road. Most of the pain was gone, except for a slight throb in his head when the vehicle shook on the bumpy road. He assumed they had given him some kind of pain medication, and for that, he was grateful.

He looked around in the ambulance, searching for his brother, and found him asleep on a gurney next to him.

"Dean?" Sam tried to say, but something was blocking his throat and it just came out as a mumble.  
"Your brother's going to be fine", a female voice said. He looked up to find a brown-haired paramedic looking down at him. "We sedated him to spare him some of the pain; that's a pretty nasty break he got there. Can you tell us what happened?"

"Yeah, he, um…" Sam said after clearing his throat. "He fell from a balcony. Second floor."

The paramedic raised her eyebrows, but didn't say anything as she scribbled some notes onto the journal next to Dean's gurney.

"Alright, so what about you, um…?" she said, pulling out a mini-flashlight from her pocket.

"Sam", he filled in. "That's Dean."

"Okay, Sam, what happened to you?"

He managed a nod. "I… was attacked. Robbery gone wrong, I think. He knocked me out with his gun."

She nodded as he spoke, shining the flashlight into his eyes.

"Yeah, you definitely got yourself a concussion." She put the flashlight away and pressed two cold fingers against his throat. "Not to severe though, so the symptoms will hopefully pass in a couple of… days…"

Her words faded out as she frowned slightly. "Hm. Weak pulse. You usually this pale, Sam?"

"I… I don't know. Haven't really had the time to look in the mirror." He tried to smile to show that it was a joke, but it felt fake and stiff.

She gave a small laugh, but he wasn't sure if it was real or not. "Alright, then. Feeling nauseous or dizzy?"

"No", Sam lied. The dizziness was mostly gone, but his head still felt heavy and he was sure that even the slightest smell of food would make him gag.

"Well, there must be something that you're not telling me, because I'm pretty certain that you're suffering from severe blood loss, Sam."

He stiffened. Damn. She was good.  
"Oh, yeah, I forgot", he said, thinking fast. "I think something cut me in the side when I was knocked out."

The paramedic raised an eyebrow. "There wasn't much blood at the scene. You must've injured yourself previously."

Crap. Sam suddenly wished they had sedated him too.

"You know what, I lied", Sam admitted. "I'm feeling terribly dizzy. I'm getting my facts mixed up here."

The paramedic's face softened. "Of course. You can tell us what happened later, main priority right now is getting you and your brother better."

Sam suddenly frowned. Something felt very off, and very wrong. He couldn't quite put his finger on what. Maybe it was just his head playing games with him. With the concussion and blood loss he couldn't be sure.

She turned away to write something in his journal, before reaching toward a syringe.

"Now, you need all the rest that you can get, Sam", she explained as she held up the syringe. "I'm going to sedate you until we get back to the hospital, okay?"

He didn't even have time to protest before she stuck the needle into his arm. He felt almost immediately how his eyelids got heavy and his breathing slowed down. Finally he could sleep.

A/N: Okay, so, not really the most eventful chapter, but it's all going somewhere big, I promise you that. So if you guys want more chapters then it'll get more interesting, promise! Please leave a review telling me what you thought (as usual heh) and if you want more.


	4. Chapter 4

Bright, white light. That was the first thing Sam noticed the next time he woke up. He opened his eyes and had to squint against the sunlight, reflecting against four white walls. Metal tables stood against the walls, filled with equipment and machines.

 _Hospital._

He was in a hospital. A machine beside him made a regular "peep"-sound, monitoring his heartbeat.

He sat up slowly in his bed, afraid that the dizziness would return, but it didn't. Neither did the pain. That's when he noticed two IV's going into one of his bandaged arms, one with a transparent liquid, probably painkillers, and another leading to a blood bag. That also meant that they'd seen the stitched up cuts in his arms. But for some reason, he didn't really care at all.

The door to his room suddenly opened, and in the doorway stood the paramedic from before.

"Hello, Sam", she said with a big, white smile. "I'm glad you're awake."

She closed the door behind her and reached for the journal at the foot of his bed.

"You're looking better. Not so pale. How's the pain?"

"It… it's gone", Sam said, surprised to find that it was true. Instead, it was replaced by a tingling sensation in is stomach, and he felt strangely satisfied.

"That's great news. We've given you some morphine and blood so you if you're feeling dizzy, it's not from the blood loss but the morphine", she said, smiling at him again.

Morphine. Well, that explains the weird happy feeling. Still, he felt that there was something he was supposed to do. Unfinished business. Something wrong.

"Where's Dean?" he asked her.

"Your brother is in another room down the hall. He's fine, we put a cast around his ankle that he'll have to keep for at least a month."

Something she said made him feel like he'd been punched in the stomach. He had to fight to get his drugged mind to work, but finally he realized what was bothering him.

" _Your brother's going to be fine."_

Brother. _Your brother._

How did she know?

He never told her. And Dean couldn't have either, because she hadn't even known their names.

The heart monitor next to his bed suddenly sped up a little. She threw an eye at it, but didn't say anything. They had sedated him before he even had the time to tell them that.

He didn't know who or what she was, or what she wanted, but he knew that he had to get the hell out of there.

"Okay, well, listen, um…" he hesitated since he didn't know her name.

"You can call me Pamela." She smiled again, and it seemed so sincere.

Maybe he was wrong? Maybe nothing was up at all. It could've been in his chart or something. But there was this feeling in his gut that he couldn't ignore.

"Right, so, Pamela, I appreciate everything you've done for us," Sam said as he swung his legs out of bed, "but me and my _brother_ really has to go home now."

"Oh, no, you can't do that, Sam", Pamela said, scolding. "You're simply not well enough."

Sam got out of bed anyway, relieved to find that he still had his clothes on. He couldn't have been out for that long. "I'm fine, really, it's nothing. But we've got something to do at home, it's really important, so I'm sorry but we gotta leave now-"

He was interrupted by her brusquely pushing him down on the bed again.

"Sorry, Sam. You can't do that." Her hands were squeezing his shoulders painfully hard. "You can't leave."

"What do you mean?" He frowned, wrapping his hands around her arms and trying to pull them off of him. "What are you doing?"

She finally let him go and took a step back, only to punch him in the face. Hard. Pain shout through his cheek and he almost fell back in the bed. Another punch landed on his nose before he could react, and this time the pain was so intense that his vision went black around the edges. She probably broke his nose. At least the pain cleared some of the morphine-haze in his brain.

She started to aim to take a swing at him again, but this time he ducked just in time. He threw himself at her, tackling her to the floor. He flinched at the pain as the IV needles were ripped out of his arm because of him being too far away. One hard punch to the side of the girl's head and she was unconscious.

He got up, panting. As he wiped some blood off his nose he searched the room for his stuff, without success. He swore silently as he realized that he had no idea where the demon knife had ended up. Instead, he decided to leave the unconscious "paramedic" on the floor and go look for Dean. He stuck his head out through the door. The hallway was clear, no people in sight. Silently he hurried down the hall, searching the name tags on the doors until he found one titled "Dean." He hesitated for a second, frowning.

What kind of hospital used only the patients' first names?

Then he pushed the door open to find his brother sitting in a bed, a TV remote in one hand and a piece of pie in another.

Dean gave a wide smile as his brother entered to the door.

"Hiya, Sam-" Dean started to say, but paused as he saw his brother's face, the smile vanished. "What the hell happened to you?"  
"Fake nurse", Sam muttered as he closed the door behind him. "We gotta get the hell out of here."

"Demon?" Dean asked, putting away the remote and stuffing the last pieces of the pie into his mouth.

"Yeah, think so, didn't have anything to prove it though."

He helped his brother get out of bed, as Dean clearly was a bit unbalanced with the whole giant cast around his ankle.

"You're obviously feeling better", Dean said as he rose out of the bed.

"Yeah, they gave me morphine and some blood."

"Hey, me too!" said his brother with a chuckle. "Well, not the blood, but the happy-drug. Feels amazing, don't it?"

"You mean the cloudy brain and impaired judgement?" Sam replied sarcastically. "It's great."

"Ain't you a sour-patch", Dean muttered. "At least it makes it easier to ignore some of our problems."  
"Yeah, but that's probably what they want. Us to not care, so we won't try to leave."

Dean frowned. "Why would 'they' want that? And who even are 'they'?"

"I don't know", Sam said with a sigh. "I just know that the paramedic attacked me to prevent me from leaving." He made a sour face. "I think she broke my nose."

His brother snorted. "A girl broke your nose?"

"Shut up, Dean."

A/N: There you go guys, finally found out what's up with the paramedic. But there's a lot more to it! Want another chapter? Please review telling me if you do. Hope you enjoyed it!


	5. Chapter 5

They left Dean's room and headed into the still empty hallway.

"Where the hell is everyone?" Sam mumbled, supporting Dean as they walked.

"Who cares", said Dean. "Let's just get the hell out of this place."

They rounded a corner and… froze. At the end of this hallway, five dark figures were coming toward them with high speed.

"More demons?" Sam asked quietly.

"Probably." The muscles tensed in Dean's jaw as he watched the guards coming toward them. He removed his arm from around Sam's shoulder and used the wall for support instead. They were preparing to fight.

"Here, take this", Dean said, handing the demon knife to his brother. "You're probably the most capable to use it at the moment."

"You brought it!" Sam breathed, relieved.

"Yeah, hid it in my clothes before the ambulance came. You ready for this?"

Sam nodded.

That's when the guards finally reached them. Sam took a step forward, holding the knife in front of him. Three of them circled in on Sam, probably because he was a bigger threat with the knife, while the other two went for his brother.

Sam managed to stab the first demon pretty easily, but then the second grabbed his arm holding the knife as the third kneed him in the stomach. He hunched over as the air went out of him, but managed to elbow the third demon in the temple and it crumpled to the floor. The second demon punched Sam in the face, keeping his grip around his arm. He twisted it, and Sam groaned in pain as the knife slipped out of his hand.

Then suddenly, his brother was there, having knocked out one of his demons and escaped the other one (ha, as if you can ever truly escape your demons). Sam noticed a bottle of holy water in Dean's hands, but to both of their surprise, the man holding Sam didn't cry out in pain as the water touched him. There was no smoke from his skin.

"Crap", Dean said, stunned. "Not a demon."

The other person, who apparently wasn't a demon but human, had now caught up to Dean, and they started fighting again.

The man who was still holding Sam's arm threw him against the wall, wrapping his hands firmly around Sam's throat. He desperately struggled against the man, but wasn't strong enough. Looking over to Dean, he saw that his brother was loosing too.

"We can't let you leave, Sam", the man said. "We can't let you leave because of what you're _destined_ to do."

The words confused him, and worried him, but he shot them aside. He needed to focus.

Looking around, gasping for air Sam realized that nothing was standing between him and his brother, who was only a couple of feet away, and he got an idea.

As spots danced before his eyes, he reached out with his foot and kicked the demon knife toward his brother. "Dean!" His shout came out weak and groggy, and he felt dizzy from the lack of air. But his brother caught on quickly.

Dean threw himself toward the knife, landing right next to it. He grabbed it and turned just as the guard attacked. The knife went straight into her stomach, and she slumped to the floor. He pulled the knife out, or at least it looked like he did, but Sam couldn't see clearly anymore.

That's when he felt his knees give out under him, and the only thing that held him up now was the hand wrapped around his throat, painfully hard. The man who was holding him growled in anger as Dean killed his co-worker, or whatever you want to call them, but seemed intent to finish the job with Sam. His vision darkened around the edges, and he thought _this is it._

But then, the guard holding him let out a surprised breath, eyes wide, before he dropped to the floor, revealing Dean standing behind him, a bloody demon knife in hand.

Sam slid down to the floor as his lungs automatically made him hyperventilate for the air that he could finally breathe.  
The room spun, and it was strange how he still felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Sam, hey!" Dean exclaimed, kneeling beside his brother, frowning with concern. "Deep breaths buddy, c'mon."

Like he wasn't trying. His lungs wouldn't let him.

"You gotta breathe, Sammy, slowly," his brother said, his hand patting Sam's cheek to keep him awake. "C'mon, take a deep breath…"

Sam pressed a hand against his chest as he forced himself to stop breathing for just a second, then pulled in a deep, raspy breath. Reflexively, his lungs forced the air out of him too fast.

"That's good, Sammy", Dean said. "Another deep breath, okay? Two… three…"

He inhaled deeply when his brother counted, then forced himself to let the air out just as slowly. Inhale… exhale. Then, _finally,_ he was able to breathe normally again.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. He enjoyed every breath, even though it stung terribly in his very sore throat.

"Alright, Sam, you good?" asked Dean, nervously looking around. "We gotta go."

Sam nodded, although his throat hurt way too much to talk. Dean grabbed his brothers arm and pulled him up.

Sam waited a couple of seconds for the dizziness to pass before he wrapped Dean's arm around his neck, seeing as he still needed support for the broken ankle. They followed the emergency exit signs until they reached the emergency exit, which was a white door with a red sign on it saying "DO NOT OPEN."

"We're not supposed to open the emergency door?" Dean said with a frown.

Sam reached forward, pressed the handle down and pushed the door open. Instead of walking out into the fresh air like he had expected, they ended up in what looked like a warehouse.

"The hell?" Sam croaked weakly, throat burning.

"It's all fake", Dean said as the realization hit him. "The hospital, the staff, none of it was real."

Dean steered them around the corner, only to find that the walls of the hospital corridors were actually just large paintings propped up against support beams, just like theatrical scenery.

"What the heck is going on", muttered Dean. "This is freaking me the hell out."

"'ey 'aid 'da..." Sam tried to say, but his throat was already swelling a bit and he couldn't get the words out. He tried to clear his throat and grimaced in pain. "They.. said…"

"Shut up", Dean scolded. "Don't make it worse. You can talk later. Let's just get out of here, alright?"

Sam sighed, but nodded. When they finally made it outside, they appeared to have been in a large storage building just by the highway. Several cars swished by.

"Let's try to catch a ride, shall we?"

"Where?" Sam said, or tried to say at least.

"Well, we gotta get back to my baby, of course."

A/N: Plot Twist! Gosh, this took me forever to write, I don't know why. But I hope you liked it, I really put a lot of effort into it. Review please, I love reading your comments and opinions! Do you still want more chapters? Thanks for reading guys!


	6. Chapter 6

It took them a while to finally find a car with a driver willing to give a ride to two strangers, one with a broken leg and the other with a broken nose.  
Finally a man stopped and rolled his window down.

"You guys need help?" he asked, eyes landing on Sam's bloody nose. "Hospital?"

Sam just shook his head, ignoring the dizziness. "No", he croaked.

He shot Dean a look suggesting he do the talking, seeing as Sam's throat was starting to swell, preventing him from speaking normally.

"Eh, my brother here just tripped, you see", Dean said with a laugh. "He's clumsy like that. We were, um, hiking, and just need a ride back to our car."  
The man nodded. "Get in."

They got in the car, Dean describing the motel where they'd left the Impala, and luckily the driver knew what they were talking about. After fifteen minutes of driving, Dean let out a happy sigh as the Impala and the motel were in sight again.

"Thanks for the lift", Dean said as he got out of the car.

Sam followed, then pressed his palm against the car to support himself as the world spun. Dean wrapped his arm around Sam's back as the car drove away and they supported each other walking over to the Impala.

Dean glared at the cast on his foot before looking up at his brother. "You okay to drive?"

Sam hesitated for a second, then nodded.

Dean didn't believe him in the slightest, and kept gazing suspiciously at him.

"No", he said finally. "We're getting a room."

"Dean", Sam protested, voice hoarse. He flinched from the burning sensation in his throat. "I'm… good."

Dean shook his head, annoyed by his brother's pretense. "Liar."

And so Sam didn't really have any other choice but to follow his brother inside the motel.

They got a room and Sam immediately stumbled to one of the beds, sitting down on the edge of it. The morphine he'd gotten was wearing off and his wrists were stinging and his head throbbing. Worst was the feeling of his throat closing up. It was getting more difficult and more painful to breathe, never mind talking.

He distantly rubbed his palms over his wrists in an attempt to lessen the pain.

"You okay?" Dean asked, leaning against the wall, watching Sam's hands.

"Stings", Sam muttered, not looking up.

"We should probably drive by a real hospital, pick up some painkillers or something", Dean mumbled as he walked over to his brother. "Let me see."

Sam felt too weak to do anything other than let his brother undo the bandages around his wrists, one of which were spotted with blood.

Dean swore quietly. "You've torn the stitches."

Sam shook his head, forcing words out of his sore throat. "Not… me."

Dean looked up. "Those demo- humans, at the hospital?"

Sam nodded. "Twisted… my arm."

"I'll redo them for you."

Sam nodded again, biting his lip. He was just so tired, but now he'd have to go through getting stitches for the _third_ time in what… two days? He sighed, laying down on the bed as his brother left for the first aid kit.

oooOOOooo

Sam woke to sunlight streaming over his face through the motel window. He turned in his bed, flinching as the bed pressed against the wound in his left side. The clock on the table next to his bed read 4.45 am.

Sam sat up slowly, feeling for his injuries. His wrists throbbed painfully, and they felt hot and itchy, which he guessed wasn't a good sign. Then there was his throat, which felt as thick and stiff as the trunk of a tree. He tried to take in a deep breath, which annoyed his very dry throat and made him cough weakly. His throat burned like fire and he grimaced, stumbling out of bed for a glass of water. In the bathroom, he leaned over the sink, staring at his own reflection in the mirror. Dark, ugly, purple bruises covered his swollen throat. His face was covered in a thick layer of sweat from a fever that had crept onto him during the night.

Sam turned on the tap, splashing his face with some cold water and then trying to drink some, which turned out to be hard since his throat was closing up. Then he left the bathroom again, finding Dean still asleep in his bed. Sam sat down on his own bed, leaning his back against the wall.

 _What I wouldn't do for some painkillers right now_ , he thought longingly as he closed his eyes. There was no way he'd be able to fall asleep again with all that his body was going through.  
He bit his lip, blinking back tears as his wrists kept stinging. He desperately wished for something that could distract him from the pain.

"Sam?"

Sam opened his eyes, looking over to his brother sitting up in his bed, legs tangled in the sheets and a confused look on his face.

"Morning", Sam tried to say but his voice wouldn't work. Instead came out a wheeze that made him cough slightly. So he just nodded instead.

"Can't sleep?" Dean asked, rubbing his eyes.

Sam shook his head, taking in a deep breath.

"How's the pain?"

Sam shrugged.

"On a scale from one to ten?"

Sam hesitated, then held up five fingers.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, right. If it was only five you'd be able to sleep."

Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean tumbled out of bed, pulling his pants on. "Come on, we're going to the hospital."

"Dean", Sam croaked, glaring at his brother. "It's 5... in… morning."  
"So?" Dean asked. "They must have the emergency room open."

Sam shook his head again.

"Don't be stupid, man", said Dean. "I know you're hurting. And you need sleep, which you obviously won't be able to do without pain meds. So let's just go get 'em, okay?

He looked sternly at his brother and held his gaze for several moments, a silent argument playing out between them. Then Sam sighed and got out of bed. Dean grinned a little. Sam never could win those silent staring matches.

oooOOOooo

The clock in the Impala read 3.57 pm. Sam had been in the E.R for most of the day, getting some morphine and prescriptions for pain medication. He'd forced his brother to take some too, since his ankle must've been hurting like hell, even though he wouldn't admit it.

Now Sam was driving them back to Bobby's place so that they could fully heal up. Seeing as Dean's ankle was still stuck in a cast he'd reluctantly admitted that Sam would have to take the wheel.

"So," Sam said, "we should probably talk about what happened. In the hospital."

The doctors had given him a salve to put on his throat, which lessened the swelling and made it easier to talk and breathe. The painkillers helped too.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You want to talk about your morphine trip?"

"Not this trip." Sam glared at his brother. "The fake one."

"Oh. What about it?"

"Well, like the fact that those were humans, not demons. And that those humans… they knew. About my destiny, or whatever."

Dean clenched his jaw, looking out the window. "Screw them. Screw fate. I'm done, with all of it."

"Done? What, you're just… quitting?"

"No, not quitting. Not like that. I just mean, we make our own destiny, okay? To hell with all the demons, humans and angels that say otherwise."

Sam pressed his lips together, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. Then he couldn't stop a small smile from spreading across his face. "Sounds good to me."

A/N: So this chapter kind of wrapped my story up. Please leave a review telling me what you thought, and if you want more stories like this from me. Your comments are what keep me going. And thank you so much for reading!


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